could with cold pork
and potatoes in place of the princely salmon, while Dorothy and Aunt
Lydia, after eating what they had heart to consume of the feast,
returned to Parson Clark's home, where they waited as quietly as
possible until the retreat of the British troops. Then Dorothy had the
joy of being again clasped in her lover's arms--and as he looked
questioningly into her dear eyes, he could see lines of suffering and
of new womanliness carved on her face by the anxiety she had
experienced during the last twenty-four hours. Then, at a moment when
both were seemingly happiest at being together, came their first
lovers' quarrel.

When she had somewhat recovered from the fear of not seeing Hancock
again, Dorothy announced that she was going to Boston on the following
day--that she was worried about her father, who had not yet been able
to leave the city, that she must see him. Hancock listened with set
lips and grim determination:

"No, madam," he said, "you shall not return as long as there is a
British bayonet in Boston."

Quick came the characteristic reply: "Recollect, Mr. Hancock, I am not
under your control yet! I shall go to my father to-morrow."

Her determination matched his own, and Hancock saw no way to achieve
his end, yet he had not thought of yielding. As usual, he turned to
Aunt Lydia for advice. She wisely suggested retiring, without settling
the mooted question, as they were all too tired for sensible
reflection on any subject. Then, after defiant Dorothy had gone to her
room, the older woman stole to the girl's bedside, not to advise,--oh
no!--merely to suggest that there was more than one girl waiting to
step into Dorothy's place should she flout the handsome young patriot.
Also, she suggested, how terrible it would be if Hancock should be
killed, or even captured while the girl he worshiped was away from his
side! There was no reply, and the older woman stole from the room
without any evidence that she had succeeded in her mission. But she
smiled to herself the next morning when Dorothy announced that she had
never had any real intention of leaving for Boston, and gracefully
acknowledged to an entranced lover that _he_ had been right, after
all!

The next question was, where should the women take refuge until the
cloud of war should have passed over sufficiently to make it safe for
them to return to their homes? Hancock advised Fairfield, Connecticut,
a beautiful town where there would be sm